


Normality In A Post-It Note World

by melliyna



Category: Spooks | MI-5
Genre: Character Study, F/M, Family Drama, Lists, M/M, Original Character(s), POV First Person, Psychological Trauma, Yuletide 2008
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-25
Updated: 2012-04-25
Packaged: 2017-11-04 07:28:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/391304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/melliyna/pseuds/melliyna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zaf makes lists, Adam writes notes. It's both incredibly broken and incredibly stable. A glimpse of the two of them, in lists and notes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Normality In A Post-It Note World

_Buy milk. Wes, Parent Teacher Evening. 7:00. Washing Machine needs fixing. Maddie, doctors._

The bizarre thing about this normality is that it's not normal. Zaf would have looked bewildered; almost terrified by the domestic routine, if he'd had time or leisure to be terrified. As it was, he'd decided it was just another op, just another angle that needed to be played. He finds plumbers, parent teacher evenings and the chaos of organising a pair of children, not to mention Adam almost more terrifying than international terrorists. Because terrorists don't depend on you, don't twist their way round and inside you. Don't leave a sports car scattered with toys, baby seat and (now that Wes is learning, slowly, to unbend himself) a packet of playing cards, a video game. It's his version of untidiness, which makes Zaf almost irritated at Adam when he considers it.

Not at Fiona though. Somehow, he knows that wouldn't help. You can't sustain irritation at Fiona, who is ever present in her absence. Zaf is okay with that, even embraces it sometimes when he wants to remind himself that this is just a role, just a way to make sure that Adam remains stable. Whatever it takes, for King, Country and Harry. No more, no less. Except for the unexpected problem that as time went on it changed on them both. Somehow, an edge of permanence came in to this arrangement he and Adam have - of sex, breakfast and an attempt at a domestic life, toast included. Not much talking - that was a Fiona Thing, another piece of himself that Adam wanted to discard away. Adam Carter, whom Zaf often thought was either the best or worst at the great art and science of spying he'd ever seen, packing away the pieces of the life that was. He's both impressed and revolted by it, until he sees that like much of Adam, it's all brittle, pushed away but easily broken, if you know how to push.

_Apples, Peanut Butter (for Wes), Chicken, Noodles._

So Zaf makes lists and makes Adam talk, when they cook, though it's probably the last thing he wants, to hear about Fiona, whom he liked, whom he misses, sometimes more than he appreciates Adam. So they have words, as Adam chops, quarters and organises vegetables, Zaf coats meat in flour, stir fries, adds the noodles. Pulls the meal together, takes the adults plates out of the oven, spoons out baby food for Maddie, who expresses interest in Wes, in his plate. It's Adam who distracts her back in to her meal, but Zaf makes airplane noises when he feeds her, hoping none of it gets on his shirt this time. Somehow, it always ends up with stains. They both do the washing up, albeit now with Wes's help.

He's learnt now, that Wes likes set routine of dinner, TV, reading, bed. Wake up, breakfast (not laughing, when he helps set out Maddie's), school. Sometimes there would be soccer practice, band practice, an afternoon at a friend's house. But usually it was home, to homework, drawing or reading before dinner. Getting Wes to be more spontaneous was not, Zaf thinks, one of his better ideas. Unpredictability has bad associations for Wes Carter.

_Gone to see H at work. Don't wait up. Bought cat food._

They both leave notes like that, at various times. Keep it ambiguous, Zaf thinks, especially when it comes to yellow paper, stuck to a fridge festooned with alphabet letters, notes from school, drawings. He's never thought about tidying it up, organizing the notes, the drawings in to categories, maybe even binning the ones not needed, to destroy the evidence, in case someone does break the legend around this place. Already, the policy of no photographs on the walls is creeping away, in the form of snapshots stuck to the fridge as a reminder of permanence. They are supposed to be ready to leave at any time, Zaf thinks in frustration, as he surveys the mess. No M15 clearing team could erase this - particularly the scuff marks, the ground up play doh, rusks and a glimpse of small handprints in primary colours.

Wes. A shelf of art supplies, a shelf of books, a shelf of toys and video games. A half finished model car, one Zaf still wishes he owned in driveable size. There's a larger shelf, books and DVD's with a well thumbed looked. They'd been stuck here for months, trying not to look like they were watching every minute, cleaning themselves up, inside and out. That's what a safe house is for. Not for shelves of books, battered and shared between them or this strange pooled DVD collection, with Adam and his strange love of romantic comedies, Zaf's strange love for bad sci-fi movies. It's mingled together, all sharing shelf space with West Wing DVD's, a whole heap of non fiction (both of them) and Zafs' cheap paperbacks, a leftover from his student days when he'd haunted second hand shops, his hand on, around and very much wrapped around a bright, long legged girl. Though really there was a parade of bright, long legged girls, when he thinks about it.

_Can you pick Maddie up from R? Business came up. There's cold medicine and a new book for Wes._

He sits on the couch, trying to feel awkward. Maddie is sleeping on his chest, Wes looking almost prim on the couch, even with a duvet and cold. They watch Top Gear, then Mythbusters, because Wes has a fascination with science, with the unpacking of reality and its puzzles. Later, he reads to Wes, still feeling out the words of the story, the way he should sit and whether he should be in this room at all. That's a sentiment that he sometimes thinks Adam shares. Turns out the light, walks around the house, to make sure Maddie is properly asleep, before he puts her to bed. Zaf hopes, as he slips out of the house to place the spare key that he'll never get used to this enough, that it will hurt to leave, when the time comes. When he can walk back in to his life, his cars and M15 without a care. In the morning, he goes through the usual, leaves a note for Adam on the fridge.

_Adam, Wes needs new socks (Plus new blankets for Maddie, with winter). Groceries are in the cupboard, plumber is coming at 3. I'll be back, early._


End file.
